His fingers are broken. Twisted in all the shades of blue to violet, a sickly yellow poking out underneath.
He doesn't want to look. Doesn't want to watch.
But cold hands clamp around his face, and his head tingles as it's raised again. Joker is standing there. Always there.
He says something — something Jason can't hear, doesn't want to know. All he can see is those green eyes, a color he used to like but now one that he isn't able to stomach.
Joker's breath is hot on his face as he leans down to whisper, and Harley's nails dig into his jaw. He can't look away. Not anymore.
So he watches the Joker speak, blank eyed and wishing he weren't here; anywhere but here.
And Joker falls back, his cold hands taking one of Jason's mottled ones. The touch flashes instant sparks; fireworks of pain, just for him.
He grits his teeth, a dry tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He can taste something irony, metallic.
Harley's fingers find solace, prying his eyes open. And just in time, because now Jason can clearly see—
Joker is crushing his fingers further. Shattering the bone, one by one.
And suddenly Jason pulls his hands away, sparks flying as he slams his back into the chair, barbed wire slipping further into his sweat-and-blood soaked skin. His eyes are wild, jerking as far away from the clown as he can try to get.
Warnings: Torture, brainwashing, forced drug use. (In pill form) It's a bit long so starts under the cut. Personally, not my favourite bit of writing but.. y'know I just wanted to post.
Blood dripped into a swollen eyelid, falling from his matted hair. His arms were dislocated again, and his ankle hadn't been healing right. Hung by the wrists, any pressure he put on it felt like a fissure of pain. Not to mention his ribs, bony beneath the rags of his Robin suit. Those hadn't healed right, either.
In the darkness of his cell, the only thing he felt was dread. A wave of anxiety, always there. A fear so deep that he felt it in his bones.
Then he heard it. Footsteps, hitting the tile. Him. His whole body went taut, teeth gritting. If his eyes weren't so bruised, they'd be wide. He fought to keep his breathing even, trying to beat the hyperventilation that came with the slow footsteps.
The light flicked on, and he didn't even look up. Didn't bother making a noise.
Cold hands grabbed his jaw, and he closed his eyes as he felt Harley force a pill down. He swallowed, throat dry and painful.
Joker wasn't here yet. Why wasn't he..? If he opened his eyes, he knew he'd see Harley. See her walking out, saving him for Joker, like he was the best entree at some fine dining place.
He opened his mouth, about to ask— maybe ask the empty room, but the door opened again.
A hit knocked into his gut, and his eyes flew open, yelping at the sudden blow. His vision was lazy spirals of colour, as if ingrained with a layer of light.
The cell was— different. For a moment, he tried to focus on what it was—
The bar struck him again, sending sparks of white through his vision. He gasped.
Gritting his teeth, he tried grinding his good foot across the floor in an attempt to turn away. Hands roughly pulled him back.
Joker was there. But so was.. Batman.
"Hey, kiddo! Why are you scared? I'm not the one hurting you." Joker crooned, giggling. His face was a blur, smile warped too big. Too fake. Jason tried to push himself further away.
"No, no, no. I'm not the one hurting you, Jason. It's Batman! He is." Joker pointed to the man in the cowl.
Batman was there, Batman was there, Batman was there, he was safe— And then the crowbar struck at his ribs, breaking at them, a strangled groan leaking from his lips.
Batman had hit him. Bruce had hit him. Bruce was here. Here, and he was hitting him.
Black cowl, white lenses unreadable, holding a crowbar.
He didn't understand. Bruce wouldn't — Dad wouldn't, this wasn't..
"No, no.. no, Dad—" He cried, tears crawling through the blood and dirt on his face.
At his cry, Batman just seemed to hit harder. Pain mixing with the greens and pinks that glittered through his vision, that warped Bruce to reveal the truth.
White laced through his vision as another rib broke. Blood was already beginning to soak deeper into his raggedy outfit, all too hot.
"B, B— please," Sobbing now, his voice broke as another hit landed on his bad ankle.
Joker's voice was what he could hear through the pain, Batman the only thing creating it. Batman was doing this. Bruce was doing this. Had this all been planned—?
He whimpered, pain clouding together into one throbbing wave.
Batman didn't care. Bruce never did. Those years at the manor—was he waiting? Waiting for this moment, to drop off this useless Robin?
A weak bird, maybe immediately a regret to Bruce. Maybe immediately he wanted to throw him away.
He was weak, anyways. Jason was weak. Batman hated him.
(Haven't done one of these in a while! This isn't really torture, just Harley and Joker having a discussion as well as Jason getting scurvy 😮💨😮💨 TW: Force feeding, mentioned brainwashing, referenced torture. This is a longer one, so I added a keep reading.)
"Mistah J.., I don' think that scar shouldda done that." Harley frowns, pointing to a mark on Jason's face from the crowbar.
"What is it, Harley? Our star player here looks fine to me." He says, though leaning to stare at the mark— now obviously a small cut.
"No, puddin'. It just reopened! 'N look.. 'is wounds 'aven't been healing properly.." She pointed out, gesturing to the mottled bruises and hardly scabbed over cuts she could see.
"So what. Is my boy gunna die? Do we need another doctor?" Joker asked, now glaring at Harley.
"Well, let's see." Harley stepped over the crowbar on the floor, grimacing before opening Jason's mouth with a finger. "Oh, look at 'is gums! It's scurvy!" She said, pulling Jason's face to show Joker. His gums were a gross purple colour, opposite of the pinks they'd been before. His teeth looked loose, half on the verge of falling out.
"Scurvy? Is our bat-boy a pirate?" Joker asked, incredulously.
"No, no. It's a... c. Vitam... uh.. Vitamin C deficiency!!!" Harley shrieked, glad to know the answer. "We need to give 'im fruits."
"Fruits? I give him Arkham's finest?" Joker turned, pointing to a rusty tray on the small metal table at the back of the room. On it, was a brown, moldy juicebox and a crinkly half-eaten orange infested with maggots.
".. He just.. hasn't been eating." He'd say with a huff, crossing his arms.
Harley would follow his gaze, turning to Jason. "Come on, kid. You 'ave to eat!"
He'd flinch, face contorting into a pained expression.
"Birdie. Eat." Stomping around, Harley would grab the tray, swinging back to Jason. She'd give it to Joker for a moment, before grabbing the orange angrily and cupping Jason's face, prying his mouth open.
His eyes would fly open, and he'd whine, making a pained noise, unable to talk with Harley stuffing the orange in his mouth.
"Chew." She'd push, pulling his jaw up and down, trying to get him to eat. Jason would cough, hacking on the orange with watery eyes.
"Eat it! If you spit that out, Jay, 'll just come back with somethin' worse!"
Jason would nod, pitifully trying to chew with Harley's help, before she slammed his jaw closed and got him to swallow.
"Good." She'd sigh, leaning back to comfortably look at Jason next to the Joker. After a while of staring, she'd mutter something. "... Oh."
"What, Harls?" Craning his neck to her, he raised an eyebrow.
Pouting, she'd squirm. "Oh, nothin' Mistah J. 'S just that.. y'know.. 'cause the scurvy, we can't beat 'im up for a little while.."
"What?" Joker would hiss, smile turning to something more feral. "What do you mean, HQ? No more pulling nails? No more fistfights? Next you're gunna tell me no more birds to play with!"
She'd step back anxiously, eyes darting between him and the kid. "The scurvy.. I think, 'won't let 'is injuries heal for a bit. 'N.. we could open old ones accidentally, too."
"Harley. Harley, Harley, Harley." Joker would tsk, parading around her. "Now that you mention it, and we can't hurt the big ol' baby of Batsy's... I think it's time for phase 2 of Joker's best act!"
".. Uh—.." Brows furrowed, Harley would bite her lip, uncertain. "So.. we're taking him to the circus?"
"No, no, Quinn! The circus is for me and you. But for him.. I say it's a good time to start brain scrubbin' Or.. washing, whatever!" He'd cackle, smile growing bigger. "When the Bat finds out.. Jeez, the kid won't remember his own name!"
